


Time's Up

by DrownedTrying



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/F, F/M, God Tier, M/M, Sadstuck, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-06-27 05:21:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19784086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrownedTrying/pseuds/DrownedTrying
Summary: You wake up screaming. There goes another night of nightmares and pain, a night where you watch people you don’t know die in violent deaths. This has been going on for a few weeks now, night after night, person after person. Sometimes, you see them die twice or thrice, each way with blood spilt. So much blood, in fact, that you could fill a lake with it. The blood was a rainbow of colors; burgundy, bronze, gold, olive, jade, teal, cerulean, navy, indigo, violet, fuschia, and finally, candy red. So much red.This scares you.





	1. S3ND H3LP

L1ST3N. W3 DON’T H4V3 4 LOT OF T1M3. 3V3RYON3 1S D34D. D4V3, K4RK4T, 3V3N G4MZ33. 1T'S ONLY M3 AND ROXY NOW. PL34S3, WH4T3V3R YOU DO, DON’T L34V3 US TO D1E. F1X TH1S.

* * *

You wake up screaming. There goes another night of nightmares and pain, a night where you watch people you don’t know die in violent deaths. This has been going on for a few weeks now, night after night, person after person. Sometimes, you see them die twice or thrice, each way with blood spilt. So much blood, in fact, that you could fill a lake with it. The blood was a rainbow of colors; burgundy, bronze, gold, olive, jade, teal, cerulean, navy, indigo, violet, fuschia, and finally, candy red. So much red. 

This scares you.

The screams make your ears ring throughout the day, the lingering scent of blood steals away your appetite, the gruesome deaths plague your thoughts. Dark bags began appearing under your eyes as the nightmares continue. Smiling is now foreign to you. Words no longer leave your mouth unless you’re spoken to first. Your classmates slowly begin to notice, though you don’t tell them anything other than, ‘Just didn’t sleep well, I guess.’ Your professors have spoken to you a handful of times concerning the sudden drop in your grades, and seeing as you’re one of their best students, it concerned them.

Your eyes go back into focus, the ceiling of your room coming into view. Did you have class today? Or was that tomorrow? Yesterday? You didn’t know anymore, and quite frankly, you don’t care. You can’t function like this anymore.

The ringing of your phone resonates throughout your room, but you don’t jump. Nothing scares you anymore. After a few moments of ringing, your phone goes quiet, but it starts ringing within three seconds of silence. You sigh and answer.

“...”

“(Y/N)? Are you there?” Oh, it’s Ariel. You’ve worked on a group project with her, hence why she has your phone number. 

“Yep,” you reply. 

“You didn’t come to class yesterday. Is everything alright?” You frown. So you _did_ have class yesterday.

“Yep,” you repeat. You really don’t feel like talking to anyone right now. Ariel goes quiet, taking the hint that you want to be alone. However, she ignores that hint.

“Well, we went over chapter twelve in class, and Professor Hussie assigned a worksheet to complete and a study guide for the test in a week,” she explains. You hum.

“That’s nice,” you tell her. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Are you alright?” Ariel repeats, concern lacing her words. The urge to roll your eyes hits you. You roll your eyes.

“I’m fine, Ariel. I just woke up.”

“Oh!” The surprise in her voice makes you wince. She’s pretty loud when she’s surprised. You found that out the hard way. Just now. Her loud voice in your ear. You don’t like talking on the phone with a surprised Ariel. “Sorry, I’ll let you go. Get some more rest!” You hum and hang up before she can utter another word.

“Holy shit.”

**(Y/N) === > Get up.**

What? No. 

**Ahem, I said ‘get up.’**

And you said ‘no.’

**Get up!**

You don’t wanna.

**(Y/N) === > GET. UP.**

Fine!

You get up.

Every muscle in your body complains as you slowly roll to your side and almost off the bed. That would be comical if you were reading it in some sort of fanfiction, but since you almost kissed the floor, you decide it isn’t as comical as you’d think. It’s kinda gross, honestly. You don’t know what kind of germs your feet picked up while walking.

“I hate you,” you tell the voice in your head. Maybe you shouldn’t say that out loud.

**(Y/N) === > Go downstairs.**

Is this going to be a normal thing? Being bossed around by a voice in your head that oddly sounds like your psychology professor doesn’t exactly seem that appealing.

“Whatever you say, Professor Hussie,” you mumble. You somehow make it to your feet without injury and make your way out of your room and down the stairs. Breakfast doesn’t sound very appealing, and neither does fucking around on your computer, so you might as well go down and see what the stupid voice says next.

Your house is silent as you walk from the stairwell to the kitchen, but that’s the way you like it. Luck was on your side when you found the small house for rent at an affordable price. It had three bedrooms, two and a half bathrooms, a nice kitchen, and you had a decent sized backyard. One of the bedrooms was turned into an office (although you’ve hardly used it in the past couple of weeks), and another was turned into a game room (a room you’ve also neglected to use as of late). The only areas you’ve really used are the bathrooms, your bedroom, the small living room, kitchen, and the backyard. The backyard had a corner of land where you converted it into a garden. It was nice to get away and distract yourself by planting a variety of foods, flowers, and herbs. Your favorite vegetable to plant are pumpkins.

Standing in the middle of your kitchen, you wait for the voice to whisper more demands in your head. You wait. And you wait. What was that? Oh, you’re still waiting. Stealing a glance at the clock, you notice you’ve been standing in the same spot for five minutes.

This is stupid.

With an angry sigh, you go to your living room and plop down on the couch. However, you end up sitting on the corner of your laptop, much to your dismay and irritation.

“Damn it!” you curse. You quickly move it from under you and place it in your lap. One thing bothers you about this situation. “I left my laptop in the office,” you mumble. “How did it get out here?”

**(Y/N) === > Check your computer.**

Oh god damnit.

You open your laptop and power it on. It takes a minute of the portable computer to whir to life. You type in your password to unlock the device, and when the familiar picture of your background pops up, you wait for further instruction. 

Aaaaaaand nothing.

Absolutely fucking nothing. The voice didn’t say anything, never bothered to tell you what to do once you got on your computer, nothing. Nothing but silence and the hum of your laptop. This is getting ridiculous and your patience is running thin. Maybe doing what a strange voice says is a bad idea.

Bored out of your mind, you decide to check your email, because why the hell not? You haven’t checked it in quite some time, so it’s probably best if you clear out all the junk from your inbox before more emails stack up.

You click on your internet browser and type in your email’s site. It doesn’t take long for the page to load, but when you see the amount of junk mail you have to delete, you groan. There were ads, emails concerning your multimedia accounts, emails about events going on at your college, and that’s about it. You go through over two hundred emails, deleting them twenty at a time. It doesn’t take you long, but you still hated the process.

Emails cleared, you go to a website you frequent often. It had the comic _The Midnight Crew_ and it’s probably the best thing ever. You loved following the mysteries and the bullshittery that occurs in the comic. The art style was simple, but you’re a firm believer in less is more. You were about to continue reading where you left off when a notification popped up in the corner of the screen. Looks like you have another email.

The voice that oddly sounded like your psychology professor didn’t have to tell you to check out the email. You clicked it faster than a boy clicks on- Yeah, you’re gonna stop that thought right there. You kill it before it has a chance to hatch into something you don’t want to think about. This isn’t the most appropriate time for that. 

Rolling your eyes at your own stupidity, you look to see who sent you the message. Ironically, it’s from Professor Hussie. Weren’t you just comparing the voice in your head to your professor’s voice? Yes, yes you were. Scanning through his text, you frown.

_(Y/N),_  
_I need you to come to my classroom today. We have to discuss your performance in class as soon as possible. Please be here by 4:13 p.m._  
_-AH_

You sigh and close your laptop. Guess you’ll be going into class today. As you trudge up the stairs and into your room to get out of pajamas you haven’t changed for days, you think about his email. 

Professor Hussie, or Andrew Hussie, was a strange man. He often showed up to class in this odd green cloak that looked as if it would fit a huge monster better than a human man, his fake tan too orange for it to look natural on a normal human being, and often taught in riddles. You suspect that he’s either trying to make the class go crazy since it’s a psychology class, or he’s just nuts and bolts. You’re beginning to believe it’s the latter. Hussie also has this weird obsession with four-thirteen, whether it’s the date, the time, or the score one receives on an assignment. You guess it’s normal for people to have a favorite number, but Hussie takes it overboard. It’s everywhere in his classroom. It’s written on the whiteboard in permanent ink, his desks are four across and thirteen down, he even has it as his laptop’s background. Everyone in the class knows this because whenever he puts up a powerpoint, it’s the first thing that everyone sees, even if he has the powerpoint ready to go.

One change of clothes later, you’re heading back down the stairs to grab your car keys. It wasn’t that far of a drive from your house to the college, so you might as well make it quick. You’re sure to lock your front door before leaving the safety of your home and to your vehicle. Vehicle unlocked, started, and speeding down the barren road, you yawn. You haven’t been sleeping well, and you hope that these nightmares go away soon.

* * *

You arrive at your college with little trouble. Traffic was surprisingly good today, and you even managed to find a parking spot close to the science building. There was one other car in the parking lot, so you assume it’s your professor’s. You climb out of the car and lock the doors before slamming the door shut. It was four-oh-nine in the afternoon, but you had to hurry up to meet the time limit the weird professor gave you. However, when you look down, you see a coin on the ground. Upon further inspection, you conclude that it isn’t the normal currency your country has, but it has a female figure with what looks like horns coming out of the side of her head. You pick it up and flip it over. The same lady was on the other side of the coin, but there was a scratch crossed over her eyes. 

You pocket the coin and move on.

The doors to the science building were unlocked, as you expected them to be. The fun part about this adventure is walking all the way to the classroom, which is numbered, you’ve guessed it! Four thirteen. 

“Damn you, Hussie,” you grumble under your breath. You come across his classroom door and try to pull it open, but it’s locked. Confused, you try it again. Yep, it’s still locked. You don’t know why you wasted your time trying to open the door a second time. A glance at the clock above the door shows that it’s only four twelve. Were you too late? 

_Click!_

An eyebrow is raised when the door unlocks the moment the minute hand lands on four thirteen. You really hate your professor sometimes. Annoyance aside, you pull open the door and walk in.

“Ah, there you are! Good to see ya, kid!” You frown. Andrew Hussie is sitting at his desk wearing a green shirt with an odd winged symbol printed on his chest. He’s beaming at you, but you don’t smile back. “Come in! We have much to discuss.” You nod and sit at one of the desks near him. The orange man grins at you.

“You wanted to talk about my grades, sir?” you question. Your voice is flat as you speak. The smile on the professor’s face falters slightly.

“Yes, I do.” Professor Hussie turns to his computer and types into it for a moment. He then gives you his full attention. “You’ve missed class for the last three weeks. You look exhausted, and you haven’t turned in any assignments, much less check to see what they were. Is everything okay?” he asks. You rub your tired eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just haven’t been feeling that great,” you tell him. Professor Hussie nods.

“I see. Now, the only reason why I, nor your other professors, have dropped you from our classes is because of your schooling history. A straight-A student who doesn’t miss a single day of class and helps out her peers whenever possible is a hard student to come by, so you see our concern when you disappear without a trace, correct?” You nod, feeling more tired than before.

“Yeah, I do,” you reluctantly agree. Your professor studies you a bit before clearing his throat. He stands and gestures you to stand with him. You stand and follow him to the door, confused as to why he’s leaving when you’ve just arrived.

“I’ve taken it upon myself to speak with your professors to come up with a solution. We agreed that in order for you to pass our classes, a project is needed to be completed. This won’t be an easy project, and you may need to use every available resource to complete it,” he explains. You nod and stop outside of his classroom, expecting him to follow you. You’re confused when he stays inside his classroom and doesn’t say anything else. You look back at him.

“Wait, what’s the project about?” Andrew Hussie simply smiles.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He slams the door and you hear the lock clicking into place.

“Uh… Okay?” you say. Shrugging, you turn and go down the corridor once more, looking forward to going home and relaxing. The coin in your pocket feels heavier, but you ignore it.

All you want to do is not think about anything for a while.

4R3 YOU TH3R3? C4N YOU H34R M3? PL34S3, 1 JUST N33D YOUR H3LP. 1 C4N’T DO TH1S FOR MUCH LONG3R. W3 N33D YOU. PL34S3 T3LL M3 YOU C4N H34R M3.


	2. A/N: Warning

Hello, everyone! Unfortunately, this is not an update. Let's talk about something big called **_RESPECT._** To start off, I'm in college. I'm in college full time as a nursing student. I study eleven plus hours a day, not to mention I work and I struggle to maintain a healthy social life. I created my server so anyone who has a question can ask me directly. However, DEMANDING that I update or you'll come to my house with a weapon is UNACCEPTABLE.

Let me get one thing straight, because quite frankly, I'm beyond fucking pissed off. Today, I received a message saying that someone is threatening to come to my house with either eggs to egg my house, or to show up at my door with a baseball bat. First, this person threatens me, then they demand I update a fic. 

**NONE OF YOU TELL ME WHEN TO FUCKING UPDATE. YOU DO NOT TELL ME WHAT TO FUCKING DO AND EXPECT ME TO DROP EVERYTHING AND DO WHAT YOU FUCKING SAY, LIKE YOU'RE AN OWNER AND I'M SOME LITTLE BITCH YOU CAN ORDER TO SIT OR STAY OR BEG.**

If I receive another message containing a threat or demanding me to update a specific story, without fucking notice, I will delete that story. Do not test me. I am sick of this childish shit. Grow the fuck up and realize that I'm not going to take any of this bullshit.

Also, a HUGE THANK YOU to those of you who understand that I may not update for a long time due to my busy schedule. You guys are fucking awesome and I love chatting with each and every one of you! You guys are the reason why I write these stories, and when I update, I make sure to put out the best possible content that I can. I love each and every one of you, and I hope to talk to everyone more!

**Author's Note:**

> If you've enjoyed the chapter, please leave a comment, kudo, bookmark, and subscribe to be informed when the work is updated!


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